


Haven't Felt Like This My Dear Since Can't Remember When

by atthebarricade



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: M/M, Post-The Winter Soldier, The Avengers have a very brief cameo they don't even have dialogue, vaguely angsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-24
Updated: 2014-05-24
Packaged: 2018-01-26 08:56:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1682432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atthebarricade/pseuds/atthebarricade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Because nothing could have stopped this, not a depression or a war, not a super serum or brainwashing, not seventy years of separation; some things were just meant to be, and Steve and Bucky were one of those things. Til the end of the line, they had promised, and neither man liked to break their promises."<br/>Steve just wants Bucky to say his name again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Haven't Felt Like This My Dear Since Can't Remember When

Steve wakes up to the sound of rain and Bucky’s hard gaze. He blinks a few times to make sure that he’s real, that it isn’t wishful thinking or a dream, but it’s really him.

“Bucky?” he asks anyway, just in case. Bucky’s hair is longer and it looks like he hasn’t shaved in weeks. His eyes are his own, though, and Steve’s heart breaks a little when he sees the pain and fear in them.

“You know me?” Bucky says roughly, clearly finding it difficult to maintain eye contact.

“I--yeah,” Steve replies throatily. “For as long as I can remember. You’re my best friend-”

“I’m trying to remember if I know you, too,” Bucky cuts him off, lips tightening. “Other than you being my mission.”

“You do know me,” Steve says eagerly, sitting up. “I’m-”

But Bucky is gone, out the window noiselessly before Steve can finish his sentence. He curses himself for being so careless and runs a hand through his hair, hoping desperately that this wouldn’t be the last time Bucky came to him.

~~~

It wasn’t.

A few weeks later, the first rain since Bucky’s first visit, Steve comes home from a night run soaking wet and finds an equally drenched assassin on his couch.

“Hi,” Steve says, taking his waterlogged shoes off by the door.

“Cap,” Bucky says with a nod.

Call me Steve, he thinks desperately. I’ve always been Steve to you.

“Do you need a shower? Dry clothes? Something to eat? It was raining pretty hard out there,” Steve offers.

Bucky hesitates but finally nods, getting cautiously to his feet. “A shower would be nice,” he admits, and Steve feels a surge of white-hot anger in him for the nervous look in Bucky’s eyes, like having a choice would get him reprimanded.

Steve nods eagerly and beckons to him, leading Bucky to the shower.

“I’ll lay out some clothes on my bed for you to change into,” he says before leaving. “Help yourself to anything in there.” Bucky has obviously shaved since their last encounter but still not recently-there’s a fair amount of stubble, more than Bucky ever used to have.

Bucky nods and turns to eye the shower. Steve slips out quietly and opens a can of soup to heat up, glad that he and Bucky share the same taste for chicken and rice.

The soup is done just as Bucky reappears in the doorway, clean shaven and wearing Steve’s too-big clothes.

“Thank you,” Bucky says mechanically as Steve pushes his bowl of soup toward him, hesitantly picking up the spoon. Steve hates HYDRA for what it did to his best friend, for stripping him of his own free will, for making him unsure if he was allowed to eat soup or not. He turns away, trying to contain his anger, and fills a bowl for himself.

“Do you have anywhere to stay?” he asks Bucky, hoping that he wasn’t crossing a line. He takes a seat at the counter across from Bucky, his moves slow and careful, so as to not startle Bucky. The other man shakes his head and eats a spoonful of soup. Something flickers across his eyes-remembrance? Pleasure?-and Steve’s chest tightens.

“You can stay here, if you want,” Steve offers in a casual tone. “This place is too big for just one person, anyway.”

Bucky shifts in his seat and nods again, finally meeting Steve’s gaze. “Thank you, Captain,” he says robotically.

Steve, he thinks again, and offers the man a smile. “I’ll take the couch.”

Bucky opens his mouth to object but Steve waves him off.

“When’s the last time you slept in a real bed?” he interrupts. Bucky shrugs which Steve takes for “not in the past five months or so” and Steve nods, case in point. “I can handle the couch for a while, believe me.”

So Steve falls asleep on the couch that night, comforted by the knowledge that at least for a night, his lost best friend is safe in the company of someone who loves him.

When he wakes up the next morning, the bed in unmade but Bucky is gone. Steve sighs, makes the bed with familiar hospital corners, and heads into the kitchen for breakfast before his usual run. As the eggs cook on the stove, he turns to his coffee maker (the simplest one he could find in that completely overwhelming store Tony brought him to) and notices there’s a new and opened bag of grinds next to the machine. Underneath there’s one of Steve’s sticky notes, and on it familiar writing:

I like this kind. Hope you don’t mind. It’s not signed, but it doesn’t need to be.

Steve grabs a notepad, writes “shopping list for Bucky” at the top, and remembers back to a shoebox apartment with practically bare cupboards and a time when to Bucky, he was always Steve.

~~~

Bucky came back every night in time for dinner but was usually gone for breakfast. Steve didn’t ask where he went every day and Bucky didn’t offer any information. Tony texted him once, saying, “Your assassin boyfriend is invited to live in the Tower with us, too,” and Steve makes a note to ask Bucky about it later.

They’ve spent a week in this arrangement and Bucky avoids calling Steve anything if he can help it, but if he must he sticks with “Cap” or “Captain.” Each time it makes Steve’s heart ache even more, but he never once asks Bucky to call him Steve. Bucky needs to reach that comfort zone on his own accord. One morning, Bucky is there for breakfast and doesn’t give any indication as to why. He’s there for lunch, too. In fact, he stays all day with Steve. The next day, he cooks breakfast for Steve, and it’s his favorite. Steve wonders if Bucky is aware of this fact or if he made in on instinct. Steve just grins and thanks him profusely. It may be over the top, but it’s worth it to see Bucky’s returning small smile. The next time Steve goes grocery shopping, Bucky goes with him. His eyebrows raise at the price of each item, and Steve completely sympathizes with him.

“I’ve only just stopped having small heart attacks every time I come here,” he tells Bucky and the other man smirks before frowning.

“Jesus, Cap, look at all these different kinds of yogurt,” he comments, eyes wide. “And cheese. Cheese is cheese, right?”

“Seems like they made a hell of a lot of new kinds of everything when we were gone,” Steve agrees. “Wait til you hear how many more Disney movies they made.”

Bucky’s eyes widened. “How many?”

“Hundreds,” Steve answered and oh, he’d missed that look in Bucky’s eyes. “We could go over to Tony’s-he’s Howard’s kid-and watch them at his place. He has a huge theater and probably owns them all. We could go after lunch.”

“Yeah, I’d like that,” Bucky says without much hesitation. “I...I remember seeing Snow White with you, in the theater.”

“The animation is gonna blow you away,” Steve promised. “Now go pick out a kind of cheese.”

Bucky’s eyes widened and Steve laughed, moving forward to help him choose. Bucky’s eyes lingered on his face and Steve knew that they were going to be okay, in the end.

~~~

The rest of the Avengers were hellbent on teaching Bucky and Steve pop culture after they discovered the two men in the middle of their Disney marathon. They had a sci-fi weekend and Bucky discovered a love of Star Wars, much to Trekkie Bruce’s disdain. Natasha insisted on showing them as many movie musicals as they could tolerate, and Tony picked out “classics” like Jaws and Jurassic Park. Clint’s weekend of cult classic movies (Steve particularly liked Clueless, much to everyone’s delight). Eventually they gave in and moved into the Tower rather than having to make the commute nearly every day. Bucky was offered his own floor but turned it down in favor of staying with Steve.

“Cap’s getting old, he needs someone to keep an eye on him,” Bucky explained with a grin. It had been four months since Bucky came home, and though he had remembered almost everything and his nightmares were becoming less frequent, he had yet to call Steve anything other than Cap. He was certain the others had picked up on it, but all had the tact not to mention it in front of either of them. So Steve focused on what he had- his best friend, his team, and 70+ years of culture to catch up on. Halfway through a night of Nicholas Sparks movies and Chinese takeout (both courtesy of Thor), Bucky shifted from his ramrod straight position on Tony’s couch and leaned against Steve, resting his head on his shoulder. Steve froze and felt a wave of emotion within him and moved to make more room for Bucky.

Steve must have fallen asleep at some point, because Bucky was shaking him awake. The room was dark and empty, the TV paused on another young and attractive couple kissing. Steve blinked a few times and Bucky grinned at him.

“Wake up, old man,” he teased. “I wouldn’t want your back to get sore.”

“You’re a jerk,” Steve mumbled, getting up and leading Bucky to the elevator.

“Punk,” Bucky countered from behind him. Steve stopped and turned to face him, thinking fondly of times past. He was glad Bucky had remembered this, glad that Bucky was here at all. He summoned the elevator and let Bucky get in first, laughing when he was shoved with Bucky’s metal arm.

The elevator began its ascent and Steve hummed the same tune Fury had been playing when the Winter Soldier shot him- “It’s Been a Long, Long Time.” Bucky looked at him curiously and Steve turned to him, confused.

“What-”

Bucky lurched forward and captured Steve’s lips with his own, pinning him against the side of the elevator. Steve kissed back desperately, arms wrapping around Bucky’s back. Seventy years was far too long for buildup, and decades of pent-up romantic and sexual frustration leaked into the kiss. They broke apart when the elevator doors opened and stepped into the hall leading into their apartment.

“Steve,” Bucky said desperately, clinging onto the blond like his life depending on it. “Steve, Steve, Steve, Steve-”

He leaned forward and kissed Bucky, feeling the man shudder in his arms.

“I know, Buck,” he whispered.

Because nothing could have stopped this, not a depression or a war, not a super serum or brainwashing, not seventy years of separation; some things were just meant to be, and Steve and Bucky were one of those things. Til the end of the line, they had promised, and neither man liked to break their promises.

“Steve,” Bucky said again against his lips, and oh, it’s been a long, long time.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in about an hour and a half without any editing or checking for grammar, so my apologies for that. Title from "It's Been A Long, Long Time" by Harry James. I hope you enjoyed!


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